Footfall

War of the Worlds? In that movie, the aliens had landed. His random sweep picked up a news station. He listened, but there wasn’t much news. Official announcements, everyone to remain calm and stay home. Hysterical announcers with unconfirmed reports of anything you liked. Orphanage burned in Los Gatos . Dams broken. Trains derailed. Europe laid waste. But no one had been hurt in Los Angeles , and as far as Harry could tell, the announcer didn’t know about anybody who’d been hurt. Just lots of rumors.

When the sky turned light a dozen were in line. Only two had thought to bring sleeping bags. One weathered-looking man brought an entire backpack, with sleeping bag, self-inflating mat, a blowup pillow, a tiny stove. He got himself settled, then made coffee and sent it up and down the line in a Sierra cup. He seemed to be having a wonderful time. So were the two Boy Scouts with him.

They talked in low voices. A thin woman’s voice kept rising into hysteria, then chopping off. Harry dozed.

The voices changed. Harry rolled over and was looking up at two blue police uniforms. He exposed his hands, then carefully reached into his sports jacket and opened his wallet. “Harry Reddington. I’m here to make a withdrawal.” He didn’t bother to smile.

“Sir, why are you here?”

Harry suppressed an urge to point to the sky and giggle. “I told you, I’m here to make a withdrawal.”

“The Federal Emergency Management Agency has issued orders for all citizens to stay home,” the older policeman said.

“Sure,” Harry said. “We always do everything Washington says, don’t we?” This time he couldn’t help the grin. “How’d they learn to deal with this situation? Experience?”

“Sir—”

The younger officer interrupted his companion. They whispered for a moment. Harry used the opportunity to take out his Baggie-wrapped letter. He held it out.

“If you’ll shine your light here,” Harry said.

The older policeman moved closer. His light showed the Capitol stationery clearly.

“… Mr. Harry Reddington, whom I have authorized to stay in my house and guard my possessions and interests …”

If they had read further they’d have come to the weasel words, but they didn’t, and Harry swallowed his sigh of relief.

“Yes, sir?” the officer said. This time the “sir” sounded a great deal more sincere.

Some of the crowd behind them was muttering. “Fucking pigs,” someone said, not too loud. The voice sounded cultured, and not at all what you’d expect someone saying that to sound like.

Harry was tempted to take advantage of that. Instead, he spoke in a low voice. “I’ll be glad to hold a place for you,” he said. “Or one of your family.”

The younger policeman thought that through, then nodded. “Her name is Rosabell. She’ll he here in an hour.”

Interstate 40 had been completely dark for an hour. One moment she had been trying to read an illuminated sign; the next moment there was no light except her headlights. The radio had gone dead at the same instant, and now she could only get static.

High mountains loomed to either side, as the car steadily climbed into the Chuska mountains of western New Mexico .

The gas gauge read less than a quarter full.

“Mom, I’m hungry.” Melissa said from the back seat.

“There’s bread and cheese,” Jeri said.

“Not any more.”

“Good God, that was supposed to last a while. You mean there’s none left at all?”

“Aw, there wasn’t very — what was that?”

Overhead the sky blazed in green and blue, then a long red streak that went all across the sky and downward to earth. “I don’t know,” Jeri said. She shuddered. Aliens. They were out there all the time, waiting, fifteen years, and now they’ve attacked us.

“We’re gonna need gas.”

“I know. Albuquerque is ahead. We can get gasoline there.”

“I don’t know, Mom,” Melissa said.

“Huh?”

“Space war, aliens — you sure we want to go into a city? Lots of people running away, I bet. Traffic jams—”

“You could be right.”

Her headlights picked up a reflective sign.

“Gas food ahead,” Melissa said. “We could use some. Eat and run the car on the gas—”

“Very funny.” Jeri watched for the off-ramp. There it was. Everything was dark over there, but she took the ramp anyway. If a town was nearby, it was invisible.

“There’s the station,” Melissa said. “Somebody’s in it.”

“You’re right.” Jeri pulled into the station.

“Yes, ma’am?” a voice said from nowhere. The station attendant switched on his flashlight. He was a young man, certainly not more than twenty, and dark. Jeri thought he looked Indian.

This is the right part of the country for it. “Uh — I need some gasoline. Badly.”

“The power’s off,” the attendant said. “Can’t get the pumps to work.”

“Oh. But I have a long way to go, and I really need some gasoline. Isn’t there anything you can do?”

He looked thoughtful. “I have a hand pump. I suppose I could pump some out into a can. It’d be a lot of work—”

“Oh, please,” Jeri said. “I’d be glad to pay you.”

“Not sure money’s worth much now. Did you hear the news?”

“Yes—” If you don’t want money, what do you want?